Rapture
by Lady Azar de Tameran
Summary: One Shot. Don’t confuse sex for love. I know them both, and they’re not the same thing. Spock/Uhura.


**_Rapture_**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Star Trek_. Sadly enough. All characters are depicted as legal age.

**Warnings**: Vague spoilers for the recent movie

AN: Inspired by a Transformers fic I read a while back, but I can't find it again for the life of me.

* * *

"_Don't confuse sex for love. I know them both, and they're not the same thing._"

His words resound in her head for days. Playing over and over again in perfect crystal clear quality. Sex. Love. The difference between them. A part of her wants to laugh. To snort and turn away. To roll her eyes and try to forget. But another part of her – the more foolish part, the piece of her that hasn't given up – clings to those words like a lifeline.

Sex and love aren't the same thing. Have never been. Related, yes. Even intertwined. But one can easily exist without the other. And that realization is a sobering one. Even as it sparks hope.

Still, try as she might, she can't come up with another way. Any other method that doesn't leave someone heartbroken and trapped in an unhappy life. At the end of the day, it isn't really much of a choice at all. Logic. Emotion. Love.

And Nyota Uhura finally comes to a decision.

"Spock," she says one quiet but nerve-wracking evening. "Spock, I… we need to talk." She fights the urge to fidget as she sits on the edge of his bed. Not a nervous person by nature, her belly still twists in on itself.

"Yes, we do," he acknowledges, standing before her and gazing intently. "There are many things I wish to say."

"The same is true for me as well," Nyota responds, painfully searching his face. "I know what the elders have asked of you."

Although his expression remains the same, his all too human eyes give him away. "Nyota, I--"

She holds up a hand. "Just let me finish please."

Nyota waits for his nod and breaths in deeply. In. Out. And in again. Heart beating in her chest like a war drum. Palms sweaty. But resolve solid.

"We're in a bad situation. I know that. Difficult. All but impossible," she admits, reaching forward to touch his hand, already knowing he'll allow the contact. "I'm human, but that doesn't mean I can't be logical. That I can't divorce myself from my feelings when need be. There are only so many Vulcans left, and all of them are needed if you wish to survive into the next generation. I can see it. I can understand it."

He is silent for a moment, processing that. "And what do you believe to be the logical action in this situation?" Spock asks finally.

"For you to choose not to choose." At his nearly disbelieving look, Nyota adds, "You can have both, you know. You can both help your people and be with me."

"That is rather im--"

"It is very possible," she insists. Her voice is firm, strong, so confident that he can't help but know she speaks the truth. "You wish to remain on the Enterprise, and undoubtedly, there is some Vulcan woman at the new colony who wishes for children but not necessarily a husband. At all or one who is even around most of the time. It can work. We can make it work."

The quiet lingers between them for so long that she believes he wouldn't listen further. That he has already given up. However, she is pleasantly surprised when he lowers himself down beside her, fingers still touching her palm.

"Go on."

Her heart thuds in her chest, but now, it is more from relief. "It will take time to find someone willing and work out a satisfactory agreement. Something that all three of us can live with. But I'm confident that we can do this."

Spock inclines his head then, demeanor thoughtful and almost bemused if she didn't know him better. "Unique situations require unique solutions," he muses.

"Exactly." Nyota can't contain her smile. "That is exactly what I mean." Her hand tightens around his. "I am not saying it will be easy or that everyone will immediately accept this. But if we quit before we try, we're guaranteed to lose. And unnecessarily at that."

"And the children, if indeed there are children?" Spock questions, watching her face.

She doesn't even hesitate. "I'll love them regardless because they will be yours. And that's good enough for me."

He just looks at her, and she can practically see his impulses firing as he thinks. Turns the idea over in his head and considers it from every angle. Possibilities. Consequences.

Nyota struggles not to hold her breath as one heartbeat stretches into the next. Fingers unconsciously tensing around his own.

But then, Spock squeezes her hand in return. "Yes."

Capitulation. Agreement. Just a simple word and their future is set. Course now so obvious.

Nyota simply exhales in a rush. "It is the logical choice," she comments in an offhanded manner, too relieved to even blink back the moisture in her eyes.

"It is the pleasing choice," he corrects softly. His knuckles rise to brush across her cheek. "The best choice." And he leans forward to kiss her. Gentle and chaste but full of promise. Fingers cupping her chin.

Afterwards, Spock pulls her down to the bed. Not intending anything strenuous but merely the chance to be together. He doesn't even seem to mind that they both still have on their shoes, just content to curl with her in the soft light of his quarters. Letting time and space pass them by outside the window.

"You know," she says after several minutes, voice muffled as she places her head on his shoulder, "I was told not to mistake sex for love."

He lifts an eyebrow and turns to look at her. "And may I ask who said such a thing?"

"The captain, if you can believe that." Nyota lets out a light chuckle.

"Indeed."

She tilts her face up towards his then. "He turned out to be not such a dumb hick, after all."

"No, not at all." His eyes are unexpectedly bright, and the very edges of Spock's mouth quirk, the closest he ever gets to a smile.

But somehow, she loves him all the more for it.

* * *

Ever Hopeful,

_Azar_


End file.
